Crimson Chimera
by Chemical Lie
Summary: Freedom is never free. With the death of one evil, a greater comes to fill the void. Debts are to be paid, ages remain fractured, and threads of control still wrap around Hell's finger. AU, Shounen-AiYaoi content. KohakuxSouta (Rated "R" at the moment)
1. Funeral

**Crimson Chimera **

Prologue: Funeral

Black.

Such a dark, dank color to scatter the otherwise white hills, splattering the landscape in a clustered pattern when viewed from miles away. Black boots walked along the pavement, clicking and clacking as the heels of the ladies' expensive shoes echoed throughout the otherwise silent area. Black veils covered every head while black suits walked along the black automobile acting as a steady, grim guard of the dark Hearse that plowed its way through the snow covered, tombstone dotted pasture, watched by large, looming trees that had lost their coloring to the devils of winter, skeletons acting as witnesses to the black parade.

The boy walked among them, hand placed upon the sleek surface of the car as they continued to march silently, eyes downcast and face emotionless. His mother stalked beside him, steps slow and restricted in her black dress, raven hair tied up and covered by a hat of the same color. They continued on slowly, wordlessly, biting their lips to keep their mouths from screaming.

They had found from past experiences that loud funerals tended to draw attention. And with that attention, unwanted questions by brash and idiotic strangers who did not know the meaning of keeping themselves reserved and respectful. The family had gotten enough questions two years ago, when they trekked down the same path, beside the same sleek, stylish black car.

The service was quick and clean. Prayers were spoken, well wishes were made and the casket was buried without any trouble, lowered into the dirt and forgotten, scheduled to be dug up some eighty years in the future.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. _

The men and women dressed in midnight filtered out slowly, chatting with family members that they had not seen in ages, viewing the funeral as a perfect opportunity for a social reunion. The boy, about eleven years of age, stared down at the open pit, brown eyes shadowed and half-lidded, mouth drawn into a thin line and expression grim. Though, it was the aforementioned shadowed eyes that caused chills to run down the spines of those that dared to comfort him, causing them to jump away with fright at the glare they were penetrated with.

Those deep earth-colored orbs _blazed_.

Snow fell lightly upon his eyelashes, causing them to flutter slightly as he looked up from his silent vigil, face unfreezing and taking on a surprised expression when he finally noticed the absence of his mother. Unlocking his limbs from his sides, he gazed around the whitewashed world, only trace of his mother being the footsteps drilled into the snow, imprints of her high-heeled business shoes walking along side another, wider, deeper pair, winding down the snow-lined headstones and halting by a nearby grove of ghostly willow trees.

Trekking softly, the boy followed, footsteps muffled by the white powder that consumed the sky and the land. Though the snow quieted the noise created by him, it only softened the already hushed conversation his mother was having with some deep-voiced stranger, whose tone he did not recognize, yet it sent shivers buzzing up his spine. Fear gripped hold of him, as it did so many times in his life, strangely amplified by the very aura the creature to whom the voice belonged was giving off. But the itching curiosity that ran through his family proved stronger than his caution, and he pressed on, straining his ears to hear the talks between his mother and the silken-voiced man.

"You know, Mrs. Higurashi…the boy will have to go someday. It is his fate."

"Fate? Fate took the life of my daughter, sir…like hell I'll my son go to that god awful place as well!"

"Your own mother said that about yourself, didn't she, Mrs. Higurashi? But you didn't listen as well…you were drawn to that place…to _him_, weren't you?"

Silence.

"Sir…You cannot expect me to give up my child now…He's too young to face that world…it overcame his sister and she was more powerful than he! It's suicide! My daughter was enough of a sacrifice there…His whole life is _here_."

Silence once more penetrated the tension-saturated air before a dark chuckle caused shivers to cascade violently down the boy's spine from his hiding place, fingering the freezing bark of an inert willow due to nervous habit.

"Mrs. Higurashi…He WILL return to settle unfinished business…when all the lights of his world go out…"

Heavy footsteps knocked aside the whitened ash as the boy peaked over the side of his hiding place, gasping despite his will to keep quiet as long black hair cascading down board suit-clad shoulders burned into his retinas.

The raven haired man paused in his strides, turning rapidly as his eyes laid upon the peeping tom, caught in the act of spying. The boy fell into the snow, startled as he tried to crawl away, fear ripping him apart inside at the unsavory smirk that spread across the man's pale lips and his burning, venomous orbs.

"Nice to see you again, Souta…" the silken voice poured out of his mouth, teeth that took on the appearance of razor sharp spikes clashed together in the twisted grin that screamed of malice. The boy only thrashed backwards, shivering as his own brown orbs glared into the sickening spirit windows of the other, color reflecting off his irises. The man only nodded his head slightly, lips curled up in that same hungry smile as he took his leave, vicious color burnt forever in the boy's mind…

…His eyes were the bloodiest of crimson.

Prologue: End

Chapter 1: Poison Sake

* * *

Author's Note: Hi! It's the author here (like you care), and I've just come to explain a few things about this fiction. It is shounen-ai/yaoi(on certain sites), so if you don't dig that stuff, move on out. Other than that, this fanfic contains violence and bad language, plus compromising situations for our poor characters. Also, it is AU-ish, considering its set in the future of the Inuyasha universe and this is just my version of it.

Disclaimer: Also, all characters that appear in this fiction do not belong to me and are sole property of their creator.

Other than that, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! If you have any questions, feel free to leave a review or drop a line in my e-mail.


	2. Poison Sake

**Crimson Chimera **

Chapter 1: Poison Sake

The rain dripped down from the grey clouds, soaking the earth with moisture and causing the smells of spring to saturate the air. The pitter patter went unnoticed as it bounced off the roofs of the houses, each identical except for one at the very top of the neighborhood hill.

The court of this house was paved with stone and outlined by a large black fence that curved delicately across the edges of the property. The branches of an incredibly large tree stood guard over the silver pathways, a testament to the power of nature and the mightiness of the absence of civilization. A small, plain house stood strong on one end of the court, followed by a few smaller buildings that served as storage shacks or small shrines dedicated lovingly to Kami, history sprawling back through the years.

Except for one.

One small hovel remained unkempt and in a shabby state of disintegration, mistreatment exposed by the mass of broken ceiling tiles and rotten planks of wood, once humble yet whimsically mysterious building now rendered to a hated, mistreated _thing_.

And the burning eyes that glared at it from the windows of the main house proved how loathed it was.

A hand shook furiously, causing a rattling sound to usher from its palm as it squeezed around a glass container, thumbnail scraping softly against the cork top. Black, dirty hatred was released from that grip, crystalline tinkling echoing throughout the immaculate room.

Her room. Her window. Her view of that damnable, horrid place.

Brown eyes gazed at the small vial in his hand, staring at the tiny rose-colored shard with distaste. His grip strengthened for a moment as a growl was ripped from his throat, only to be cut off by a heavy and frustrated sigh.

All because of this…this one little shard, this one little piece of crystallized magic that gleamed so innocently in the dim sunlight…How could such a small thing cause so much destruction?

Sure, he had heard the story: some crackpot tale about a miko who had given up her life to bind her soul with a powerful patchwork demon, imprisoning him and in consequence herself in that small pink sphere, doomed to an eternal battle.

That was what Grandfather believed. It was his tales of whimsy that eventually led to his doom…or so the police said when they found his body. Asphyxiation by smoke inhalation was what they had determined was his cause of death, as they found his lungs filled with some sort of black mist so thick that it lined the pink tissue of the organs with a sickly obsidian residue, making it seem as though he had been a heavy smoker on the verge of getting emphysema.

His body had been found surrounded by incenses and candles, plastered on him were various scripts scribbled with outdated magical symbols found only in card trick shops, slapped on so hastily that it seemed he had been panicked while applying them. It was almost as if he was trying to protect himself from someone…something…that had on so violently caught the old man off guard. And where exactly was his blue body found, back flat against the ground?

Why, the very same hut that the boy—now turned a young man—was leering at so hatefully six years hence.

Grandfather had followed in big sister's footsteps…or, at least, that was what he assumed. It only took Grandpa two years to land himself in the grave, buried beside her empty casket. Some believed it was an accidental suicide, caused by the man's extreme supernatural suspicious and paranoia.

The young man _knew_ it was murder.

It was obvious in the old man's last expression, that look of absolute terror on his face in that dark little shrine. He could remember it well, how the geezer's eyes were clouded over by fear and his mouth was opened in one final scream.

It made him sick to think about it. Think about how the authorities brushed it off, how his classmates created cruel rumors, how his mother ignored the child's ramblings that he knew in his heart was the absolute truth.

The well had taken his sister and his grandfather; _they_ would be next.

A crash echoed through the otherwise peaceful environment, sound of shattering glass pounding through his ears. It rocked him, sending waves of electricity buzzing down his spine as it propelled his feet forwards in panicked strides, long lean legs guiding him through the doorway of the room he had occupied, down the staircase and into the warm kitchen that should have smelled like cooking food.

"Mother…?" The young man's voice was muffled by the shirt collar he had covered his mouth with; blocking out the thick smoke that saturated the small room. He coughed thickly, lungs caught off guard by the billowing plumes of smaug that tasted and smelled unnervingly familiar.

His tearing eyes narrowed slightly as an outline appeared through the smoky screen, an oddly shaped lump that stood out from the purplish-black that surrounded him. He approached it slowly, malicious aura and midnight mist causing a sick feeling of dread in his stomach. A shivering hand reached out, fingers stretching to feel for the unknown lump in the middle of the fog.

The touch of cashmere met his fingertips, causing his bloodshot and irritated eyes to snap open. His fingers shifted through the alternating sake-covered flesh and broken glass in what felt like hands, disbelief and anguish, along with the thick poison in the air, making it impossible to even think of breathing.

No…it couldn't be…her…?

"M—mom…? MOM! _NO!_"

* * *

The dust gathered upon the swollen wood, mist seeping through the cracks of the rotting substance and filling the small space with an unsavory odor. Rain pounded against the ceiling, causing the soft sound of the pattering liquid to be amplified in the dark, dank space. Tendrils of the sticky, poisonous smoke that had crept into the kitchen of the main building oozed out of the pit, causing the intruder's rage to double.

A hand rested on the splintered frame of the door, brown eyes glaring into the darkened pit as bangs hovered above them, raven colored locks doing nothing to filter their intensity. A chest rose and fell in heated, enraged breaths as the grip upon the rain-soak substance tightened. A snarl rose to a pair of pale lips as dim milky light outlined its body, delicate in build though its stance was aggressive.

"You…"

The hut seemed to shake as a wavering voice, saturated with rage, penetrated the walls. Heavy breathing accompanied each word, footsteps smashing forward as bare feet stopped at the edge of the broken stairs.

"You…"

Tears drifted downward softly, hot liquid like fire on the young man's cheeks, lungs burning with the same fire that was a side effect of the deadly poison that had struck down the last of his family.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

A roar managed to tumble from his throat, voice loud and booming though tainted with the stress of tears. The walls of the hut quaked fearfully at the sound, microscopic bits of fluff forced off their ledges and sent sprawling down onto the wooden floor. The soles of the young man's feet smashed against the surface of the creaking, rotted steps, causing noises of protest to rise from the points of impact, threatening to snap in two if anymore pressure was applied to the weakened areas. The wielder of these bone-crushing steps didn't seem to care, however, as he continued to marched angrily towards the target of his malice, fingertips curling around the worn edge and giving the impression that if the well were a living breathing thing, those fingers would be locked around its neck.

"YOU GOD-DAMN THING! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!" The fingertips clawed at the ledge, lips still raised in a snarl allowing words of absolute disgust to slip through the cracks of his teeth.

"This is YOUR fault! What makes you think that they all had to go! What the fuck are we _indebted_ to, huh! Who made us slaves? Who made us some sort of fucking guardian to a myth, a legend! YOU AREN'T REAL! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU SELFISH BITCH! Fuck prophecy and fuck the goddamn shards! You took her…you took Kagome and I KNOW you took my grandfather…but my MOTHER? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TAKE HER TOO!"

A fist smashed into the bark, causing the well to crumble upon itself once more. The young man's arm shook furiously as venomous tears dripped down his face. He didn't even notice the blood that started to drip from his palm

"All because of some stupid mistake…I don't fucking _care_ what my sister did, and I don't fucking care about some stupid _'Shikon jewel'_ or some _'priestess'_ or some madman who's goddamn lust caused the world to crumble…It was THAT world, not MINE! YOUR world! I OWE NOTHING! And now I have nothing because of _YOU_!"

The young man crumpled into a heap, resting against the side of the wooden wall as he sobbed violently, cold realization creeping up on him as did the pain in his hand.

"_Why..._" he croaked, eyelids squeezed shut as his face began to burn. "What do you want from me…?"

A sudden force caused him to crash into the side of the well, violently knocking the wind out of him as he felt his ribs crack from the impact, unable to think or feel as coldness consumed him. A hand snaked around his neck, crushing his windpipe to further restrict his breathing as he was plucked off of the ground, legs fluttering around helplessly as he found himself staring into crimson irises.

Crimson…just like that day at his Grandfather's funeral, identical to the shadowy man whom had visited both of their graves that faithful day.

It was HIM…

"You want to know what I want from you, eh? You want to know what you have to do, Souta…?"

The same unsavory hungry smile spread across his pale lips, shaven face and tamed black hair masking his brutality, demonic presence shining though his unsettling, monstrous eyes. He brought Souta's face closer, vice grip on his neck not faltering in the least as the boy began to lose consciousness, though still held the shard that was now impaled into the skin of his palm.

"Bring about my retribution, _poppet_…" Was all he whispered, foul breath curling into Souta's nostrils before the boy was flung down the well's mouth, slipping away into black with the last memory of scarlet eyes and the putrid smell of blood and miasma…

Chapter 1: End.

Chapter 2: Optophobia

* * *

Author's Note: Fweh…another chapter done, about time too. Hehe, sorry…been busy busy busy…Or maybe I've just been a lazy ass, the world will never know…

Nyao…I'm sure you're all confused, right? Sorry…gotta keep up the angst, eh? It will all be amended shortly, I promise. But for right now, I leave you with an embittered and bitchy Souta.

Disclaimer: All characters that appear in this fiction do not belong to me and are sole property of their creator.

Thank yous: I'd like to thank everybody who has reviewed so far for both their patience and their encouragement. It's really appreciated and needed, actually.

I'd also like to thank the flamer too, considering their flame was oh so amusing I giggled myself to pieces. Teehee.


	3. Optophobia

**Crimson Chimera **

* * *

Chapter 2: Optophobia 

'_I am afraid to open my eyes.' _

It was inky black velvet he stared into, smothering him from every direction. It was as if he could feel the satin darkness wrap around his limbs, ensnaring him into a forced sleep needed to keep his rattled brains functioning and his weak heart beating. Warmth oddly encompassed him, jolting his insides with fluttery bubbles that popped whenever he moved, causing him more discomfort and less sleep. From the dreary depths of his dreams he forced himself awake in a frenzied hurry, fuzz still rolling around in his head and causing it to throb sharply.

It was HER face that began to form in the darkness, memories slaughtering him with fresh cuts on his groggy conscience, making him struggle for reality all the more. That damned face, all filled with nicks and bruises, brutalized by demons of unknown number, simply _smiling _at him as if everything was all right, as if the tears that were trailing down her smudged and bleeding cheeks weren't there!

He could even remember how the rain fell down, where the drops crashed in such a way that they framed her face, mocking her beauty by marring her features with the runoff of the grime that covered the once pale skin. He could remember her hands—her rough calloused hands, now carved up and scraped with crimson—caressing the side of his face lightly as she smiled so very tenderly, so very sadly that he could feel his heart shatter into a million pieces.

"Souta…" Her voice. Always so calm, so light, so perky, an eternal ray of sunshine and optimism, now tainted with tears that threatened to spill from his own eyes.

"I don't know if I can make it…but I have to do this…I have to protect you all…"

"But—! You can't lea—"

The bruised and possibly broken finger halted his words as they pressed lightly on his lips, causing his brows to furrow.

"Listen carefully…If I can't make it back…hold onto this for me…" She said quickly, urgency now etched in her voice as she pressed a small vial into the boy's hand.

"And if you see crimson, run." She turned away then, tears gushing stronger as her voice hitched for a second. It was one more whispered string of words that cascaded from her lips, face twisting in a mangled version of what she once was as rot seemed to sprout from her skin, cuts festering disgustingly.

The cruel smile sprang up from the distorted face, haunting laughter echoing clearly throughout the world that began to turn black, thick smell of decay and bleach making the boy gag. It was her eyes—no, not her eyes, ITS eyes, that glowed with a dark sort of malice the boy was all too familiar with, causing him to writhe in agony as his mouth widened to scream.

"NO!"

Hands of an odd coldness stopped his violent jolt upwards as he attempted to free himself of the imaginary binds of the crimson eyes, causing his own to snap open in absolute terror. He could feel the sweat pour down his face, drenching his skin with the salty precipitation as the sound of rain muddled in his ears. A twang of pain traveled up his spine as he hissed slightly, ribs feeling tender and back aching.

"Calm down…Rest now, there is no harm."

The voice was soothing, peaceful, and very old. Souta was suddenly frozen to the spot, unable to move or do anything else but listen to the voice as he was pushed back to the bed softly by a pale and wrinkled hand. He tried to speak yet found his voice frozen as well, stuck in his throat like a mouse in a glue trap.

His eyes scanned the ceiling as he attempted to speak, coughing slightly as his lungs burned from what seemed like incense smoke. He craned his neck to the side, squinting through the gloom and the darkness of what he believed to be a hut. He tried to speak, but his voice seemed stuck in his throat, almost sappy in nature as the obscured figure began to defog.

"Who..?" He began to ask, before a fit of coughing interrupted his question and made him ache all over. The old woman rested her fingers against his chest, others bringing up a bowl of some sort of sweet and tangy paste that seemed to revive him a bit. He glanced up at the old woman's face, noting the strained expression and the various folds that cast one eye into shadow. The other, curiously, was covered by a black patch.

Odd…combined with the priestess wear that donned her rather round and husky body, it almost looked comical. He would have laughed if he didn't feel as though he had been smashed in the chest by a truck and run over a few times for good measure.

"Where…where am I?"

"…You're him, aren't you? The one of the few she had left behind." She murmured in a contemplative manner, chocolate eye misty and warm. The priestess seemed to stare off into space for a moment, furrowing eyebrows increasing the lines that irrupted from her forehead.

"Excuse me?"

"…You have no idea, do you child…?" Her voice had converted into something that was a mix of regret and even a bit of remorse. It shook a bit in its age, accent somewhat archaic to him; this jittered his nerves even more.

"…Of the battle that transpired between your sister and Hell?"

Her eyes flickered down to his fisted hand, squinting so he could focus in on his tightly closed fingers.

"I couldn't open it…" The priestess noted, shooting a curious glance at him as he slowly opened his hand. He whimpered in pain as he did so, small bits of glass revealed to be stuck in his skin and causing the wounds to reopen. Dried brown splotches covered his palm, decorating the clear shards a dull and crusty earth tone. Yet surrounded by the healing scabs of the wound and the left over pieces of the bottle that was so easily crushed was a small, black scar, in the shape of a…

"…a shard. A _tainted_ shard."

The expression of horror on the old priestess's face made Souta's blood run cold. It seemed as though the very shadows were slowly eating away at her flesh, painting what glowed orange in the light of the fire a bleak, sickly gray. She sat fully on her heels now, rough hands covering her terror filled face. The young man's gaze continued to switch between the strange mark in the middle of his palm and the old priestess, trying to understand exactly what had happened to him.

The shard, was it…inside of him…?

Her wrinkled hand grasped his wrist with such force that he nearly screamed, pain shooting down his arm in what felt like electric bursts of lightning. The priestess's leathery and old face was thrown back into an even darker shadow, bright eye roaming the wound as her fingers traced the small, star-like scar. She grimaced, and Souta's stomach flipped, weakness creeping through his body right from his heart.

"I can do nothing about this…" She murmured, causing the pit in his stomach to grow even heavier. "I am nowhere near powerful enough to extract a shard from your body…at least in a way that wouldn't kill you, child."

"I…What...?"

"Child, you cannot stay here." The old woman grasped onto his shoulders, forcing him to glare into her hardened eye. Her grip was strong enough to make him wince, stomach now doing flip flops and annoyingly reminding him that this wasn't some nightmare he was bound to wake up from any second now.

But this nightmarish scene was reality, emphasized by the panicked scramblings of the old woman as she scuttled about the darkened hut like an old withering crab, grabbing all sorts of bottles and dried food that lay scattered about the darkness, muttering sentences that Souta only caught pieces of.

"To the west, I think, you'll find her…you'll need food, and shelter...like your sister you should know how to survive…"

"S-Survive…? You're kicking me out of here!"

"I cannot let you stay, boy! You're in danger here, don't you understand? No…you couldn't possibly..." She stopped short, brows furrowing and causing the wrinkles over her face to concave even more. "No…you couldn't possibly understand all that happened here."

"Ma'am…I don't even know where 'here' is…"

Or he didn't want to believe it.

The crone glared at him, eye frantic and filled with apprehension.

"…You sister called this place Sengoku Jidai, child…and she left that shard in your time to keep anymore tyrants from ripping this world apart!" She spoke in a quick, somewhat raspy voice, stuffing carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables into a small sack she had picked up from somewhere near the fire.

"That shard was pure when she left it with you; why it's tainted now I do not know, but it has worked its way inside of you…it's poisoning you."

His face remained blank.

"…Wha…?"

"The shard, boy! It needs to be removed, as soon as possible and taken back to your world!"

A knife was thrust into the bag, along with a few provisions such as needles and yellowing rolls of bandages. More food was placed into the pack, along with what seemed like various charms that were of an older fashion than what his grandfather had showed him and taught him out years ago. His mind was free from the grogginess of his rather rough descent to wherever 'here' was, but it was just as quickly clouded with confusion, headache pounding erratically in his ears.

"M-My world…?"

"Yes, your world. The future world, is it not? The world where you and _she_ hailed from, how many times shall I say this, boy? No…no, you must not linger here any longer." The pack was stuffed into his hands, night suddenly becoming quite dark as he was shoved out into it, priestess following him hot on his trails. Orders were whispered to him in a stern voice and only half-listened, the bewildered teenager only able to comprehend a few of the instructions he was given, names sounding unfamiliar and roads unknown.

He was to go to the west and find a mud house…find the mentors…find the miko…find the…the…

An animalistic howl ripped through the air, jolting Souta out of his confusion and thrusting him even deeper into bone-numbing fear. He nearly dropped the satchel in his hand when the old priestess's palms shoved him forward with tremendous force, a final command of "RUN! HE'S HERE!" echoing in his ears as he took off. Blindingly he ran towards the towering trees that surrounded the small hut and the clearing, his eyes wide and his brain now shut off from reality. If he had paid attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed the ruined remains of what could have once been a town, but only focused on the forest, the woods, the west!

The crunching of the leaves mercilessly saved him from having to hear the old priestess's last screams and the bow string strum that cast its last arrow. Darkness saved him from the horror that was the forest of his salvation, obscuring what lay ahead of him, and most importantly the monster that awaited in back, flashes of gold piercing the blackness that penetrated him. He continued, legs pumping and working like they never did before, body pulsing with the rhythm of the woods as he fought the branches and scraps of sharp vegetation that ripped at his flesh, causing a series of cuts to line his legs and arms.

Finally out of breath, he unwisely stopped for but a moment, shoulders dropping to slump forward as his hands landed on his knees, and his lungs screamed for air. His head was positively swimming, bloated on adrenaline and incapable of clear thought. He did not notice the crackle of the vegetation behind him, too busy in an attempt to acquire the oxygen so quickly dispelled in his flight through the trees.

Pain slashed against his cheek as he gasped, wind from the arrow flicking his black hair forward as blood dripped from the shallow gasp the arrowhead caused against his cheek. He zipped around quickly as a dark, almost squealing chuckle reached his ears, eyes growing wide at the inhuman sight of the pig-like beasts—with red orbs that dully burned, and tusks that curled around their gray hairy lips—that had encircled him from all sides, bows drawn tight and arrows ready. Their stench should have alerted Souta sooner, now overpowering as the young man paled and backed up, slamming into a tree. The head beast, a monstrous boar with a head covered in wry black hairs, send him a horrid grin as he set his arrow to soar directly at Souta's heart, pump and ridged fingers pulling at the bowstring and letting it f—

In the span of a heartbeat the trunks of the surrounded trees were splattered with scarlet, blood dripping down the grooves of the bark and the sides of Souta's face as he too was splashed with the thick red substance. He stood numbly, brown eyes perfectly round and witnesses the decapitation and butchery of the hogs as metal flashed in the moonlight. His lids plunged him into blackness just as the entrails began to spill from the wounds of the dying monsters, fingers gripping his moist face and refusing to let go, even as footsteps echoed through the woods. His breathing drowned out all but those footsteps, only a few paces away in the moonlit void he refused to see.

Ten paces…six paces…three…two…one…

"Are you alright…?"

The voice was not what he expected, on the contrary it was rather gentle, deep and young. Still, he did not open his eyes which were glued shut in terror. A meek 'I-I think so…' worked it way through his trembling lips, which shook even faster when he felt rough, long fingered hands gently pry his own from his face.

"…Why won't you open your eyes? Are they hurt?" The voice asked, tainted with concern.

"I'm afraid to…"

"Why…? I'm no monster…really, I'm not."

The voice seemed a little apologetic now, hurt in a way that made Souta feel a twang of pity, though he knew not who his savior was. His lids slid open apprehensively.

He was met with orbs of a deep, kindly coffee brown.

"Who…?" He stuttered, pale skin burning a little at the close proximity of the young, soft stranger. He caught a glimpse of what seemed to be black and jade green armor in the light moonlight that broke through the canopy, and tousled hair a few shades darker than the kindly orbs that looked him over, loose from the rather long ponytail at the base of his neck.

The young man, who must have been but a few years older than Souta himself, smiled a comforting little grin, and reached out to shake the other's hand firmly (to which Souta found himself feeling as though his legs were jelly, but that could have been due to the overwhelming event of almost being skewered with an arrow.)

"I am Kohaku."

Chapter: End

Next Chapter: Kohaku

* * *

Meheh…an update in…what, a few months? Sorry for the majorly long wait everybody, I've hadn't had the drive to continue this in a while. That, and I was working out some rather large kinks in the storyline, and I've had other projects that have consumed my time. I meant to work on this a lot during the summer, but…ah well. ;; A big thanks and FORGIVE ME to the patient readers of this story! Your comments really encourage, keep them coming! They'll help me deliver a more satisfying story!

Much love,

_Chemical Lie (Dymphna-sama) _


End file.
